Song as Old as Rhyme
by MyFictionalDarlings
Summary: A series of one-shots based on a writing exercise. Each one-shot is based on a song chosen from my iPod at random. Depending on reception, I may write more. :) The timeline and events that take place are sort of a mix between the Disney movie and the musical, so if something seems different, that might be why. Leave a review, and I'll give you an enchanted rose. ;)
1. Obsolete - Sara Groves

Bonjour! This is my first post to fan , so I beg your pardon in advance for any mistakes. Still figuring out how this all works! Anyway, to business!

I decided I was going to write one day about Beauty and the Beast. I had just got done with playing the role of Belle in a local production of the musical, so I think I was missing my show! Anyway, I put my iPod on shuffle and declared that I'd write a one-shot based on the first song that came up- this is the result.

The song is "Obsolete" by Sara Groves. It's lovely. Listen to it while you read, if you like, and it may just enhance your reading experience. :) This one takes place before the events of the movie or play- Belle and her father have just arrived in their new home: a dull, provincial town. Enjoy!

Oh, and I don't own the characters. Obviously. ;)

* * *

Belle watched the three village girls trip gaily down the street, leaving her by the fountain in the center of town. People bustled by in the street around her, some cheerful and calling out to friends, others more frantic in their efforts to get errands done. No one looked at her. She might as well have been invisible.

They were all going about their lives, just as they had before she arrived in their village with her father. Each bent on their work or play, everyone knowing where they were headed next. They all belonged, and they knew it.

As they passed her by, Belle clutched the handle of her basket so tightly that her knuckles became white. Was it really so hard to fit in? What was so different about her that she couldn't settle into the same rhythm they possessed, join in their lives, become one of them? She had been trying so hard, but each of her efforts was met with some sort of failure. It was as if her thoughts were on a different plane, a line that ran exactly parallel to their thoughts, and never crossed them.

She shuffled her feet in the dust of the street, unsure of where to go next. She had chanced to meet the the blonde, giggling girls in the square, and had mistaken their smiles for an offer of friendship. After exchanged _bonjour_'s, she'd approached and tried to engage in more than a customary greeting, attempting some small talk.

The results were bordering on disastrous.

Belle wasn't one to ramble and babble, in fact, she tended toward more quiet habits, and if asked, would have described herself as more of a listener than a talker. But in her eagerness to make friends, she jumped instantly to the subject nearest her heart— stories. When she asked enthusiastically what their favorite books were, all the answer given to her was three identical blank stares. The girls blinked at her, then glanced at one another and tittered. Belle had apologized, wondering if they hadn't answered simply because they had too many favorites and couldn't possibly pick one story as the best they had ever read. When she expressed as much, the girl in yellow had blurted, "Read? Why would we ever want to do that?"

All three had laughed, and now their voices no longer sounded cheerful or friendly, but artificial and sneering. The girl in red shook her head at Belle and grabbed the hands of her friends, saying, "Come, _mes amis_, Monsieur Gaston is just back from his hunt—!" And so they left, dashing off in a fit of high-pitched squealing and loud whispers.

Belle bit her lip to hold back her tears, knowing she was silly to cry at such a small slight. But this latest example of her inability to relate to the people in this little village had gotten to her, and, added as it was to other such instances…

She pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and turned on her heel. Why did she let herself care about what others thought of her, or that she didn't belong?

Belle walked on, eyes on the ground until she had reached the end of the street. As she passed the last houses on the edge of the town, she kept going, following the dirt road until she came to a small lane. She turned down it, finally allowing herself to slow down. The quiet countryside calmed her. She sighed, relieved. She felt more at home on her own.

She rounded the bend and saw a cottage through the trees: her new home. In front of it stood her father, bent over one of his newly begun inventions. He stood up to rest his back for a moment and caught sight of her. He beckoned her with a smile and wave, and that was all it took to set Belle running, down the rest of the lane and into his arms.


	2. Thankful - Josh Groban

Here's the next one! This one came to mind when "Thankful", by Josh Groban, began to play. It really is a gorgeous song, and totally fits with the overall tone and message of Beauty and the Beast. It's similar in theme to the song "Home" that Belle sings in the musical version of the story... anyway, I'll stop writing now and let you get on with the story! It's quite a bit longer than the last one.

Again, please let me know what you think!

* * *

Belle sat on the window-seat in her room. Snow fell thickly and silently outside, and her fingers rested against the frosty windowpane, cold and white. Her heart ached as she wondered what her father was doing at that moment. Whatever it was, he was alone. Just like she was.

Belle shivered and looked away. Her life had been changing so quickly, she hadn't had time to weep since the night she had traded places with her papa as a prisoner. The Beast was much kinder to her now, and she was no longer frightened of him- but in this brief moment of solitude, her feelings of loneliness came rushing back into her heart like the brook that ran under the stone bridge near her cottage.

Belle closed her eyes as her father's face appeared in her memory. She leaned her head back against the stone wall and inhaled deeply. What would he want her to be doing? Maurice had never been one for pining, and even after her mother died, he had been the one to push on and pick up the pieces of their life as a family. He had been the one to put them back together, patient and uncomplaining... with a smile, even.

She could hear his words of encouragement now, clearly as if he were in the room with her and speaking them again.

"We have so much to be thankful for, Belle. We were blessed to have her with us this long, and now it's up to us to keep up with the change…"

_So much to be thankful for… it's up to us…_

Belle opened her eyes to gaze out the window once more. The snow had ceased falling, and the forest could be clearly seen. It was freezing outside, but in the hearth in her room, a fire danced merrily. She fingered the pink velvet of her dress, richly embroidered and exquisitely made. A glance to the other side of the room showed Madame de la Grande Bouche dozing in the corner, her drawers creaking softly as she snored.

Belle smiled. Even in this strange place, she had made friends. She wasn't completely alone.

A knock sounded at her door, accompanied by a gruff voice. It was muffled through the heavy oak, but she could hear it plainly.

"Erm, Belle?"

Her heart beat a little faster, whether from anticipation or uncertainty she couldn't tell— but she rose from her seat to open the door to the Beast. He stood in the hall, clad in a clean shirt and vest, and shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly.

"Yes?"

Belle couldn't help but smile a little as his animal features twisted into a hopeful expression.

"I have something I'd like to show you… but first, you must close your eyes! It's a surprise…" he trailed off.

She hesitated, but his strange blue eyes gleamed so eagerly as he looked at her that she stepped out of her room and shut the door behind her. The Beast held out his hand to her, and after a moment, she took it. His massive claws closed ever so gently around her hand, so delicate compared to his paw. The last thing Belle saw as she closed her eyes was the great, beaming smile that spread over his face.

Belle let the Beast guide her through the castle, and her chilled fingers began to warm, surrounded as they were by his warm paw. There were a few times he led her up stairs, and she feared she would trip, but each time she sensed the care with which the Beast led her. He was attentive, and never failed to steady her if she missed her footing. Her curiosity was roused at this change of manner, and at the secretive trek through the castle halls. What could he have to show her that required such suspense?

In a matter of minutes they came to a stop, and Belle heard the Beast inhale deeply and clear his throat. There was a pause, and Belle felt a soft rush of air over her face. No sooner had she wondered what it was than she realized he was waving a paw in front of her eyes, to check that they were closed. The childishness of the gesture made her smile. Then the sound of an opening door met her ears, and she felt the Beast tug her forward.

"Can I open them?"

"Not yet…." came his baritone rumble.

He led her further into what she assumed was a large room- she could hear the echo of their footsteps returning to them in such a way as to suggest a very high ceiling.

"Not yet…. almost…" His voice was hoarse with excitement, and Belle couldn't help but catch the feeling.

He led her a little further, then released her hand. She heard what sounded like curtains being thrown open, and felt light on her face.

"Alright…. alright… NOW!" He shouted so loudly that it echoed through the room- that, as Belle opened her eyes, she saw was full of— books!

She gasped; her hands flew to her mouth to cover her jaw that was dropped in amazement and delight. An exclamation of pure ecstasy escaped her lips as she spun every which way, taking in the awesome sight. Nearly every of each wall was taken up with bookshelves, and upon those shelves there was barely an open place!

Twin staircases stood opposite each other, each leading to a walkway that ran around the upper half of the room, providing access to the tomes nearest the ceiling. Several windows that ran from the floor to the ceiling provided ample light for observing the architecture of the library- a floor that was beautifully tiled and complimented the colors of the book spines visible throughout the room, statues of lions that guarded the knowledge therein. The room was painted a shade of light blue, and the moulding on the wall-space that was not lined with shelves was gilded with gold. Between two windows, on the wall closest to where they were standing, Belle noticed a large fireplace, with a rug and two comfortable-looking chairs before it.

The thought of all the knowledge and tales of adventure that were in her reach made her giddy. "I can't believe it! I've never seen so many books in my whole _life_!"

"You… you like it?" The hesitation in the Beast's voice made her turn to face him.

Belle shook her head enthusiastically. "Oh, it's wonderful!" She was rewarded by seeing her smile reflected on his face.

The Beast spread his arms, gesturing to the room. "Then it's yours."

Belle's eyes widened and she had to remember to breathe. _This library... mine? _This enormous room, packed with stories she had never read— new worlds to be discovered, new people and places to know and enjoy— hers? He gave it so lightly…

She stared at him for a moment in astonishment, then realized she was being rude. Belle stepped to the nearest shelf and ran her hands over the books on it. Most of them were ornate and expensively bound. They looked, if not new, barely used. A title in gold caught her eye.

_Le Roi Arthur. _Belle caught her breath and removed it carefully from it's place on the shelf.

She glanced up at the Beast, who stood watching her with a pleased but puzzled expression—and trying to hide it. Belle smiled and returned to him.

"This is one of my favorites— 'King Arthur'." The Beast just looked at her.

She was about to thank him and tell him how much she would enjoy reading it again, but something stopped her. She looked down at the book in her hands, then offered it to him.

"Have you ever read it?" she asked.

His answer was swift, and he pushed the book away, back to her. "No!"

When he saw the surprised look on her face, he realized his error and explained, hasty, but reluctant. "I… I can't."

Belle was taken aback. "You mean... you never learned to read?"

The Beast stared at the marble floor like his life depended on it. "Only a little… and it was long ago," he said, trying to brush it off.

Belle felt something stir in her heart. He looked so… beaten. His sorrow at discussing the past was evident. And to not be able to read! She looked at the floor, too, wondering what to say. Somehow an 'I'm sorry' didn't seem appropriate… she rubbed her thumb on the corner of the book. Then suddenly, it came to her. She smiled and took a step closer to him, tapping the cover with a finger.

"Well, it just so happens that this is the perfect book to read aloud! Come here… sit by me."

The Beast's eyes widened in surprise, and she had to take his hand to lead him over to the fireplace. He didn't protest, however, so she found the first page and began to read. Suddenly, she felt almost shy, but soon she found herself slipping into the story, and the words came easily to her lips, so familiar was she with them.

The next time Belle looked up was many pages later, when she turned a page to the second chapter. She glanced over to see what her companion thought of the story— and saw that the Beast was hunched very close to her, his eyes gazing off into the distance, engrossed in the tale. When he noticed she had stopped reading, he blinked and looked down at her, and eager for her to continue.

Belle grinned up at him. She really did have much to be thankful for.


	3. Waiting for the World to Fall - JoC

Here's the next one! Thank you to those who have followed my little story snippets! A penny for your thoughts?

This one follows the specifics of the play more than it does the movie, but it's basically the same story, so it fits either way. It's what came to mind for "Waiting for the World to Fall", by Jars of Clay. It's a good song. You should listen to it. :)

Now, without further ado...

* * *

The Beast paced the floor of the ballroom. He felt so strange, with his fur neatly groomed, dressed in a fancy jacket. He was too clumsy for the silk and velvet, and his heavy limbs didn't fit well into his sleeves and pants. Even though they were newly tailored by his servants, they still felt as confining as if they had been made for him before the curse— beasts just don't fit well into clothes. He was sure he looked ridiculous in all this misplaced finery. He felt like an animal masquerading as a prince. Or was it a prince masquerading as an animal?

He'd lost sight of what it meant to be human for so long that now he could hardly recall that he ever had been. He certainly didn't feel human. Until maybe recently. Yes, he was starting to _think_ like a person again, even if he wasn't human in shape.

The Beast stopped pacing and glanced at the ballroom stairs. Soon she would come through those doors. Soon, his life might change.

In truth, his life already _had_ changed. In lots of ways.

All because of Belle.

His wild desperation to break the curse had been softened by a different yearning— to be loved. Not just so he could have his freedom back, but just for the sake of being loved.

In Belle's presence, he often found himself forgetting about the curse altogether. Instead of merely minding his manners to better his chances, he found himself genuinely seeking her approval. He became more self-conscious, more aware of his movements and words and how they affected her. It was exhausting, checking himself every moment— but suddenly, it wasn't a chore. He delighted in it. He yearned to please her. He wanted to make her happy.

And the amazing thing was, Belle was so easy to please. At a kind word, she smiled. When he clumsily reached for a spoon or fork instead of licking up his dinner in an effort to be polite, she quickly changed _her_ dining habits to better suit _him._ She read him wonderful stories, wanted his opinions of them, valued his thoughts. When he asked a question, she answered thoughtfully, and even though he feared he was being ignorant, she didn't make him fell silly for asking- she acted like she was pleased about his interest.

Oh, he _loved_ her! He loved her so much his heart ached with it. And it was _because he loved her that he feared he wouldn't be able to tell her._ Would it please her, to know that he loved her? Would she be happy if she knew that he thought about her constantly, that he wanted to spend every waking moment by her side?

Suddenly it seemed hard to breathe. He tugged at his cravat with one claw in an attempt to loosen its stranglehold around his neck, but soon forced his paw back down to his side, afraid of ripping the fabric.

He was used to being the master. He was used to being the one in control. And because of that, this whole situation was uncomfortable and foreign. He never would have imagined that his fate would be decided by another. It would be decided tonight, one way or another. All that was left for him to do was wait.

The Beast suppressed a growl, and threw himself back into restless pacing.

The course of his entire life rested on one person, on a young woman… a girl he had learned to love and admire so strongly that he had trouble thinking clearly when in her presence. Always afraid of saying something stupid, he lost the capacity to articulate, and ended up failing at conversation as an ironic result. How on earth would he be able to express himself tonight, when so much hung in the balance?

His eyes wandered over to where Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts, his servants, stood smiling at him encouragingly.

He was not the only one waiting for his world to change. If he failed, if he couldn't tell her how he felt, that he _loved_ her- or if she recoiled, and couldn't love him back- he would be trapped forever. His servants, whom he had recently begun to see as _friends— _they would be candelabras, clocks, teapots forever. His mouth was dry, and he gulped.

Hidden in the West Wing, the enchanted rose he had measured his life by was fading quickly. Few petals were left, time was running out. He needed to act!

The Beast closed his eyes, trying to imagine the conversation for the umpteenth time. He tried to picture it going just the right way, saying the right things… he trembled. What good was make-believe?

When he thought that waiting any longer would kill him, he heard a door open at the top of the staircase, followed by the soft swishing of long skirts. The reason for why he was dressed this way entered the room, clothed in a glittering golden ball gown.

The Beast forgot to breathe. He felt like he was falling, like the world was coming undone. He had no control. But the feeling in his heart made him careless of it. As he stepped forward to meet her, he forgot the dying rose, the waiting, the fear and uncertainty. There was only Belle, and she was descending the stairs with that sweet grace only she possessed. And she was smiling at him.


	4. Home to Stay - Josh Groban

The Beast stood high on a balcony, staring down at the road that led from the castle to the forest. Belle had left on it not an hour earlier. A lump had taken up residence in his throat, and he couldn't swallow it away.

He was glad she could rescue her father. Really, he was.

But even though he knew it was unreasonable, he wished she had asked him to come with her. Why hadn't she? Had she wanted to get away from him so badly? He thought she was happy here, with him… hadn't she even said so? But she had left with only a glance behind, and had hardly even said goodbye in her haste to leave the castle.

The Beast turned his head from the view. He couldn't bear looking at it any longer: Belle was somewhere out there, not here with him.

Instead, as he lifted his eyes to look into his bedchamber, his gaze was confronted with the rose. It hung there under the glass, gleaming with magic and unspeakably precious… and only two petals remained. An ache settled into his heart. He would have traded both of them to have Belle back with him, if only for a few moments. Then he would have told her! Oh, if only he'd told her how much he loved her!

Even as he thought it, he felt a pang of bitterness. Had nothing changed? He was still so _selfish, _to wish that! What would Belle have done, if he had revealed his feelings? The choice between him and her father would have torn her apart. She was such a caring girl... it might have broken her heart.

No, it was better for Belle, that she had left. The last thing he wished for her was a broken heart, even if it meant he was doomed to be an animal for the rest of his life. He had let her go _because_ he loved her.

The Beast turned from the rose. He threw his head back and a roar of anguish escaped his jaws. The stars in the black velvet sky glittered back at him, distant and cold.

Fond as he thought Belle had grown of him, she hadn't loved _him_ enough to stay.

* * *

Hello again! This is the last one I had written. Should I write any more? I feel like this is kinda a depressing note to end the collection on... :/ Maybe one more where they are back together would be good? Haha, or I can just leave readers depressed and sad. ;) Anyway, leave me thoughts, notes on improvements, etc., in a review, if you like!


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